Erasure
by Greenz
Summary: Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Chitose has about had enough of it. Then she meets Aizawa. OC fic. Teachers-centric. Rated for themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings: The rating is there for a reason, and that reason is themes including death and suicide. **

**This is basically an OC fic (but mostly based around the teachers), so if you don't like the premise of OC fics, this is probably not for you.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Chitose**

* * *

Most people's Quirks are small things, like the ability to pull small objects to your hands or turn your skin blue. Weird powers that make everyday life more convenient or inconvenient, depending. Only a few people are blessed with what one would consider a heroic quirk– superstrength, ice and fire manipulation, nullifying gravity, creating explosions. Only a few become pro heroes. Such is the nature of the world.

But some quirks are neither convenient nor heroic.

Some are utterly, wretchedly cursed.

* * *

The girl transferred into Aizawa's class when they were ten.

The initial enthusiasm of the children at meeting someone new was dampened when she turned out to be quirkless. Almost all kids had quirks these days, it was only the boring adults who didn't have one. Despite that, the girl managed to fit in, making up for her lack of interesting quirk with an outgoing friendliness and good nature that endeared her to everybody around her. The girl's name was Chitose.

Aizawa liked her, too. Chitose was mature and smart and, unlike the other kids, didn't pick on him. The other kids made fun of Aizawa because his quirk was lame. Quietly, Aizawa disagreed. Erasure may not be flashy or fun, but it was satisfying.

"Aizawa!" Suneko whined. "Stop it, lamo."

"You stop, dumbass."

"You're so lame! You can only get in people's way! Erasing people's quirks because you're jealous."

Off to the side, Chitose giggled. She spoke up. "I think Aizawa's quirk is pretty cool. When he grows up he'll be so good at fighting villains. Plus, he'll be able to help people who have unlucky quirks."

Aizawa was surprised that the new girl was on his side.

Suneko's snakes immediately returned to life. "I'll be cool too," she whined. "I'll be the prettiest hero ever."

"Snakes are neat," Chitose agreed. "What's your hero name gonna be?"

Chitose was the one who planted the seed of ambition in his mind. Maybe Erasure could be heroic. Maybe when he grew up he could become super good at fighting villains like she said.

It didn't stop there. Chitose encouraged him to experiment with his power (when the teachers couldn't see, of course). They made up imaginary games about him fighting the villains on TV. As they grew older, they figured out the strengths and limitations of Aizawa's quirk.

It was really nice to be friends with someone who actually liked him, for once.

* * *

By the time they were twelve, most kids in class had stopped bullying others over their quirks. Instead, Aizawa got made fun of for hanging out with a girl so much. They sung dumb kissing songs whenever Aizawa and Chitose were together. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"What are you guys, three years old?" Chitose said, rolling her eyes.

Kino, whose quirk was sound illusions, laughed and made loud kissing noises. Aizawa silenced the noises with a glare, and then went back to sketching his hero costume, bending his head to inspect the additions Chitose was making to the design.

He wondered. Did Chitose fancy him like that? Otherwise, why would she spend so much time with him?

It was a bit odd, he thought, the way she seemed to enjoy living vicariously through him. But it made sense, since she didn't have a quirk herself. He didn't mind, not when it meant he had someone he could share his excitement with.

Lately, he'd noticed a soft look in her eyes when she looked at him. Like she was happy and sad at the same time. Whenever he caught her staring, she didn't look away. Instead, she held his gaze, and then she would smile and say, "Eight seconds without blinking! You're getting better, Aizawa!"

This elicited a weird warm feeling of pride and embarrassment. He scowled in return.

* * *

The sound of a clap next to Aizawa's ear made him jump.

"Aha! Blinked! I saw it. You need more training, Aizawa." Chitose pulled up the chair opposite him and sat, grinning.

They were fourteen, and Chitose had grown her hair out and become prettier. As she grew up, she had paradoxically lost some of her maturity, and now joked and teased others more often. She was still one of the most popular girls in school.

But Aizawa and Chitose were not as close as they used to be. They had been sorted into different classes. Aizawa took studying more seriously, in preparation for the high school applications, and had less free time. He had climbed to the top spot in the school's rankings despite his reputation for sleeping during class (he wasn't sleeping, he just needed to quite literally rest his eyes sometimes).

(Chitose was near the middle of the rankings. She could easily do better, but he had never seen her open a book outside of class hours. She preferred spending time with the large circle of friends and acquaintances that seemed to be constantly vying for her attention).

Despite her popularity she still made time for him. He didn't dislike it, but he hadn't figured out _why_ she went through such trouble to stay his friend. Aizawa was objectively a boring person. He was quiet and lanky and had a pale sickly face. He was known as an antisocial nerd and it was kind of true. Aizawa didn't care what other people thought about him so he didn't mince his words or make an effort to please anyone. He didn't play nice with others.

If it wasn't for Chitose's insistence, he would have no friends at all.

He had heard rumours of at least seven boys in her class giving her confession notes. She had rejected all of them, which he found darkly amusing.

"I'm studying," Aizawa said, returning to his book. "History essay tomorrow." He didn't ask if she'd done it already. She'd say something about finishing it during class.

"Aw, we haven't hung out in so long. Let's do something this afternoon."

"Busy." He glanced to the door of the school cafeteria, where a bunch of Chitose's friends were standing and whispering. He looked back down at his book. She was smart, she'd get the hint.

But Chitose didn't leave. After a while, he risked another glance up at her. She was staring at him, leaning her elbow on the table with her head in her hand, that soft look in her eyes. She wore a little mascara, he noticed. She hadn't been this pretty when they were kids. Still, he refused to look away. She was the one who'd been staring first, she should be the one feeling embarrassed.

A slow smile spread across her face. "Eleven seconds, Aizawa. Pretty good."

He cracked a smile, pleased despite himself. Deep down he was glad things hadn't changed that much.

"I overheard the teachers talking today. They said you had higher chances of getting into UA than anyone else in our year. Congrats, you nerd."

"In the general course, maybe. There's no way I'll pass the exam for the hero course."

"Doesn't matter. They'll transfer you. They'd be stupid not to!"

"Chitose, we're leaving!" one of her friends shouted from the entrance of the cafeteria.

"Yeah, just a sec!" She looked back at him. "Seriously, stop studying, you don't need it. I'm going skateboarding later. I can teach you tricks," she added, wiggling her fingers. Skateboarding was a hobby that Chitose had somehow picked up over the past few months while Aizawa hadn't been looking. She was (of course) very good at it just like she was good at socializing.

He debated with himself for the rest of the day about going or not going and whether it was a date or not a date. Hanging out with a girl when he was ten, wasn't the same as hanging out with a girl when he was fourteen. Alone! He'd never been on a date before! What if Chitose wanted… hugging or kissing or that stuff? Because Aizawa was not interested in doing that. At all. Okay, maybe a little.

In the end, since the word date wasn't spoken, he decided it did not apply. Plus, Chitose had given no indication of wanting… that. And surely if she did, she would do it with boys that were far hotter and more popular than Aizawa. So, there really was nothing to be nervous about. He couldn't help being annoyed at himself; what would he do when he fought villains if he got in a twist just being around a girl? It was ridiculous. He forced his nerves down.

Chitose's skateboard was blue and green and had a lightning bolt on the underside. She tried to teach Aizawa (to his own surprise, he wasn't too bad. Chitose said he was learning faster than most beginners she had seen. She still laughed at him when he fell. Aizawa thought she looked even prettier when she was laughing).

Some of the kids at the skate park were using their quirks. One of them left afterimages of himself in the air when he did spins. Aizawa asked him permission to practice Erasing, though he was quickly distracted as Chitose did a flip.

The thought came out of nowhere, like a connection suddenly being made, an epiphany, something he had never thought about or even considered thinking about before. Maybe it was because he'd been studying quirks lately, in preparation for the UA exams.

Was Chitose really quirkless?

He had never questioned it since first meeting her. If she had a quirk he would have noticed, or someone at school would know, at least the teachers, right? He knew now, though, that some quirks could be subtle, and some people didn't even find out they had one until adulthood.

What if there was a reason she had so many friends, or why she was so smart, or why she had become so good at skateboarding in such a short time? Any of those things in isolation wouldn't have seemed strange, but together? It seemed too much for a normal person.

Chitose did another jump.

Aizawa looked. His hair rose, defying gravity, as she spun in the air. Pressure built behind his eyes.

Chitose landed and high-fived afterimage guy, apparently not noticing anything unusual.

Aizawa deactivated his quirk and looked down, frowning to himself. Of course she was quirkless. Suddenly he felt guilty for doubting her and for trying to Erase without her knowledge. If she had been lying about having a quirk, he could have made her fall and injure herself. God, he was dumb.

A loud boom interrupted his thoughts.

The sound of screams came from further up the street, and soon there were people running into the skate park, yelling.

"Villain! There's a villain in the store!"

* * *

Aizawa was frozen, until Chitose grabbed his hand. "We need to get out of here."

He nodded, shaken out of his stupor. The pro heroes would arrive in a minute or two. The logical thing to do was leave.

"The villain's taken people hostage!" someone shouted.

Everybody, once in their life, faces a defining moment. A choice which will determine the things you stand for, a choice which sets the world on a path that it might otherwise not have taken. But at the time you don't think about that, you don't realise its importance. It's a decision you make with your gut, and _l__o__gic _and _rationality _have very little to do with it.

You don't realise it will define you. That's what makes the moment so critical.

Aizawa stopped and looked back in the direction the screams were coming from. It was a multi-level clothing mall, and it appeared to be engulfed by vines.

"Don't! It's too risky!"

He looked back at Chitose; her eyes were wide with fear. Aizawa's pulse hammered. "What was all that training for, then? What did we do all that practice for? I can help the hostages get out."

"Don' be stupid-"

"I'll be careful."

"No, you idiot! Wait for the pros!"

If he walked away when he could do something, did he have any right to become a hero?

Aizawa ran into the building.

* * *

_Don't blink. Don't blink._

Aizawa advanced slowly, scanning the room, his eyes watering with pressure.

_Don't blink. Don't blink._

The inside of the building was dark, all the lamps having been smashed or toppled, glass shards covering the floor. Thick vines had sprouted from the ground and wrapped around columns and counters, knocking over or crushing the racks used to display clothes. Aizawa was careful to avoid touching the vines as he advanced – they could have sensor abilities, or poison.

He couldn't see or hear anything moving in the building. He swallowed and took one more step.

"Sssss- a kid? What are you doing here?"

Aizawa whirled, eyes peeled wide, wide, wide. _Don't blink._

The villain dropped down from the ceiling like an insect and slowly straightened. He was human-shaped, but his skin was green and covered in small thorns. Instead of arms, two tentacle-like vines hung from his shoulders. A large yellow flower grew over one shoulder, while pink petals grew on his hair. He was dressed in street clothes, though the thorns had ripped holes through the clothes and peeked out.

"Well, I guess you can - sssssss - join the rest of the hostages." The villain gestured vaguely towards a corner of the store. Aizawa risked an instant of looking away.

A vine restrained the hostages against a column, wrapping tightly around their bodies. Smaller vines wrapped around their mouths, preventing them from screaming as they struggled fruitlessly. Tiny cuts dotted their skin where the thorns had pricked them. There were three hostages in total, two men and one woman dressed in a store employee uniform.

Aizawa swallowed. "Okay," he told the villain. "Just don't hurt me. I won't struggle." He walked towards the hostages, keeping the villain in the corner of his eye. They seemed terrified, two of them had tears in their eyes and pulled at the vines, injuring themselves further, while the third seemed to have given up and was hanging limply, his stare blank.

"I can deactivate the villain's quirk," Aizawa whispered once he was close enough. "But only for a short time. When I do, these vines should loosen. Run away."

They nodded, wide-eyed. Even the one who had given up looked up, a ray of hope in his eyes.

"Such an obedient boy," said the villain. He had been watching Aizawa walk, and now extended one of his arm-vines. It grew, crossing the room, reaching towards him.

Aizawa turned and activated his quirk. The vine stopped growing and started to shrink.

"What's going on?" the villain wondered. "Hey!"

Aizawa whispered, "Go!"

The hostages freed themselves and stumbled towards the exit.

"Oi! What the hell is this? Why isn't my quirk working?" The villain reached out his other arm towards the fleeing hostages, but it did not extend. He looked at Aizawa. "Is it you, brat?"

Aizawa couldn't turn and run. He had to keep staring, or the hostages would just get caught again.

"Stupid brat!" the villain spat, running towards him. Aizawa scrambled backwards, trying to keep looking – _Don't blink Don't blink Don't blink_ – but it was like looking at the approach of a freight train about to hit.

The villain reached him and swung with his arm-vine. Aizawa tried to duck while keeping his eyes open, but who was he kidding, he hadn't trained enough for this. The blow caught him in the middle of his stomach, knocking all the air out of him. His eyes scrunched up in pain. In a second, vines had wrapped around his entire body and lifted him in the air, constricting him like snakes. The thorns of the vines ripped into him, tearing his skin to strips.

Aizawa screamed. Through the pain and the tears, he reactivated his quirk. The vines holding him slackened and he dropped to the floor. The skin around his legs and torso was a web of bleeding lacerations.

"How are you doing this, brat?" the villain growled as he advanced, shaking his useless arm-vines in frustration.

A small object hit the villain on the side of the head. "Hey thorny!" Chitose said from the shoe section. "Over here!" She was holding one shoe in each hand, poised to throw again.

_You shouldn't be here, _Aizawa thought hysterically.

Blood rolled down to his eye. He blinked.

_No!_

Vines sprouted from the ground, racing towards Chitose. Aizawa forced his quirk to activate again, the pressure building up. The vines halted before they could reach Chitose. The villain turned towards him. "You, sssssssss, I've had it with this."

He struck Aizawa again, this time in the face. The thorns on the tentacle slashed across his cheek, barely missing his eyes. Aizawa cried out and staggered backwards, protecting his face with his hands.

"Hm. Is it your eyes? Sssssssss. Well, can't erase quirks if you're dead."

Something slammed into Aizawa from the side and knocked him down. There was a sound of vines tearing through flesh.

"Ow," Chitose's voice said quietly.

Aizawa opened his eyes. Chitose was suspended above him like a puppet, her body held up by the thick vine that pierced through her torso and emerged through her back. Her blood ran down the vine in rivulets and dripped on the ground.

She'd pushed him out of the way.

Aizawa wanted to speak, but he had no air. He reached for her.

The vine retreated and Chitose's body dropped. Aizawa caught her. His hands were immediately slick with blood. She was still alive, her eyes wide, her breaths gurgling as she stared up at Aizawa in shock.

He pressed down on the wound, trying to – what? Stop the bleeding? It was no use, his hand went straight through to something soft and slippery underneath.

"Chitose," he said in disbelief.

"Ow," she breathed, and reached up, her fingers touching his face. "Aizawa. Please." There was a rim of purple in the outermost part of her irises – how strange that he'd never noticed before. "Use your quirk. Aizawa. Look at me. You can…"

Her eyes lost focus. Her arm fell limp.

Aizawa's throat closed, no sound came out. He held Chitose, trembling. Maybe when the pros got here, maybe one of them had a healing quirk -

"This is shit. I'm out of hostages. Ssssssss. This is so shit. It's all your fault!"

There was a loud crashing sound from the front of the shop, the ground trembling with the force of the impact. Aizawa hugged Chitose tighter, protecting her from the blast of the explosion.

"Do not fear," boomed a voice. "For _I _am here!"

But all Aizawa could think was _too late, my fault, too late._

_My fault._

_Too late._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

It seemed like the whole school was at her funeral. Aizawa hadn't even met some of the kids who showed up. There were teachers and cousins and even one of the pro heroes that had rescued him. Everyone tried to give their condolences to Chitose's parents, but there were so many people that one of her uncles had to step in to greet the attendees in their stead.

Even though he didn't recognize most of them, they all seemed to know who he was, staring at him for too long and turning to their neighbour to whisper. Thankfully, no one tried to approach him. He stood off to the side, ignoring the pitying glances and unable to look anyone in the eye.

The blanket of humidity in the air weighed down on his shoulders and stuck in his throat like heavy glue. One person started to sob quietly. He wanted to run away from the expressions of devastation and sadness in all these strangers' faces. He felt like a stranger himself. He had no right to be here, mourning her like the rest of them.

Everyone assumed that he and Chitose had already been in the store when it was attacked. No one knew the truth.

No one knew it was his fault.

"Ah, Aizawa," Chitose's mother said.

She looked worn, threadbare, with deep wrinkles under her eyes that he didn't remember from his visits when he was younger. Nevertheless, she smiled at him.

He looked down. "Hello."

"Chitose's father and I were thinking, we were wondering, if, you see…" She seemed to get choked up, but recovered and carried on. "You two were such good friends. We just wanted you to know that you are welcome to visit for tea, when you like, if you want to talk about Chitose."

He nodded, still staring at the ground. It was a blur of green. He couldn't get his eyes to focus on any particular thing.

"We are so thankful… that she wasn't alone. At the very least, you were with her..."

The glue thickened, constricting his throat. "I'm sorry," he choked, and slipped away.

* * *

He returned a few hours later, when everyone had already left.

Almost everyone. There was one person hunched down by the grave. Their large body looked a bit silly folded down in a cross-legged sitting position. It was All Might, the pro hero that had rescued Aizawa and defeated the Villain of Vines.

All Might was not wearing his hero costume, but a black suit for funerals that made the usually colorful hero look serious and somber. Upon spotting him, Aizawa paused, but All Might sensed his presence and beckoned him closer without looking.

Aizawa joined him to sit by the grave.

To his surprise, All Might had tears flowing freely down his face.

"I want to apologize to you, young man," All Might said. "If I had gotten there just a bit earlier, I would have been able to save you both. You have the right to be angry at me."

Aizawa hugged his knees to his chest, looking at the kanji engraved in the tombstone. _Chitose_. Some part of him did want to be angry at All Might. What was the point of making such a flashy entrance if he didn't get there in time to save one girl? Why had he taken so long? If only he'd just -

It was tempting to pin the blame on someone else. But, he knew, deep down, that it wasn't the hero's fault. Not when Aizawa had been the one to rush stupidly into danger, thinking he could save people.

_My fault._

_I'm sorry, _he thought, looking at the grave. Not like that would fix anything. He hugged himself tighter and buried his head in his knees, his eyes burning with tears.

Was she angry? Was her spirit blaming him, if such things existed?

Had she truly just... gone? Disappeared forever?

All Might placed a hand on his shoulder.

In halting, disjointed sputters and starts, Aizawa told him everything.

* * *

It wasn't the last time that Aizawa lost someone.

After Chitose, there was Oboro, and after Oboro, there were other hero colleagues that fell in battle, and all the civilians that Eraserhead didn't arrive in time to save.

Each loss was one more dent in his emotional armour, one more fragment of resolve chipped away. Luckily, Eraserhead had more layers of armour than most. His tendency to keep people at arms' length spared him a lot of the grief suffered by his more easily attached colleagues.

Losing people, he soon learned, was just a part of hero life.

Eraserhead specialized in stealth and in one-to-one combat. If he was first on scene, he used the element of surprise to take the enemy down as fast and efficiently as possible. If there were other pro heroes around, most of the time no one even noticed his presence or his intervention. Later, the other pros would recall what a happy coincidence it was that the villain's quirk malfunctioned at key moments in the fight.

Whether solo or in a team, he left as soon as the threat was removed and the police arrived, disliking the attention of cameras and the adoring gratitude of the public. Himself and his quirk had to remain as secret as possible to maximize his effectiveness.

At first, he thought his hero agency would object to this modus operandi – being unknown was, after all, not great for merch sales – but they were accommodating. The agency agreed to indulge his preference and let him slack on the public image side of things if Eraserhead took less breaks. This suited him fine. Most pro contracts included long yearly breaks to be with their families and recover from the physical and emotional toll that hero work took by its nature. But Aizawa didn't have friends or much of a life outside of work, so he was happy to trade that privilege away.

He didn't take a break for ten years. Anyway, what would he do instead of hero work? Knit?

He lost count of how many villains he took down and of how many civilians he saved - but not how many people he lost. He knew each one. One person, one more dent, one more scar. Eraserhead knew he was becoming tired and reckless, but he kept going anyway, in memory of the girl who had first believed in him.

It was Midnight who talked him into becoming a teacher.

Later he wouldn't be able to recall the arguments she used, and he wondered whether he'd really been that tired, or whether she'd sedated him with her quirk without him noticing. Either way, it was probably a sign that he wasn't doing as well as he liked to pretend.

He wasn't sure he was suited for teaching, though. He was too pessimistic to inspire any sort of heroism in a bunch of bright-eyed kids. Eraserhead was pretty much the opposite of the hero ideal in everyone's minds. Someone like All Might would do a much better job.

But Midnight thought otherwise, and apparently so did UA. Aizawa accepted the offer.

If all he could teach was the grey reality of hero work, then he would at least teach it well.

* * *

{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}

* * *

The girl opened her eyes. She sighed.

She was lying on the floor in a cold, dark room. She could hear two voices yelling from downstairs– a man and a woman. By the sound of things they had been going at it for a while.

She slowly stood up and looked around, wondering what was the cause of death this time.

It became obvious immediately. Empty bottles and packets of pills were littered all over the floor of the bedroom. The girl sighed again. She was used to tragic deaths by now, but it was disheartening to wake up in the body of someone who had taken their own life. "Wherever you are now, I hope you're happier," she said to her hands. She clenched them into fists.

Sad as it was, she couldn't change what had already happened. Rather than worrying about that, the girl set about figuring out the identity of the body she now inhabited, and where on earth she had ended up this time.

Huh. The voices downstairs were yelling in –

Japanese.

A thrill of excitement ran through her. The last time she'd been in Japan was as Chitose. How many years ago had that been? It was hard to keep track sometimes. Four for Anabelle, and Oskar five, and Abimbola five as well, so was that – fourteen years? Oh, she'd forgotten Ming - had Ming been before or after Chitose?

Well, either fourteen or sixteen years, anyway, it worked out. She'd been meaning to return to Japan. That many years was more than enough time for Aizawa to recover from Chitose's death.

The memory of the stoic, awkward boy who had been her friend in that life was soft and warm but also full of regret. She'd been so happy to finally find someone with an erasing quirk, but she hadn't expected to like him so much. And he'd ended up becoming a soft spot, and she'd put off her own plans just so she could watch him grow. That poor boy had no one, he'd needed a friend. In the end, Chitose had died a lot sooner than she would have liked.

The room was small, but it was decorated with cute things, hero plushies and posters and school supplies. The notebooks were labelled with her name. _Kodai Yui_. Fifteen years old. On the desk, there was a family picture, though the faces of the people in the picture were scribbled out with angry black scratches. There was also an envelope and a box. At first, she thought it was a suicide note. She hesitated to open it. Whoever Yui had meant it for, it certainly wasn't the person now inhabiting her body.

She couldn't let anyone read it, but it would be sad if Yui's last words went unheard. She decided to read it and do her best to honor any last wishes expressed in the note.

It turned out not to be a suicide note, but an acceptance letter from UA. In the box was a recording commending her for her success. By comparing the details on the letter with the calendar on the desk, she worked out that her first day of school was tomorrow. Once again, she felt a pang of pity for Yui.

_You had your whole life ahead of you._ _You must have been in so much pain._

There was a mirror in the room, so she turned the light on and assessed her new body. Yui was a pretty girl, with a button nose, black hair in a cute bob cut and beautiful green eyes. She was wearing pink pyjamas patterned with white clouds and rabbits.

More banging and shouting from downstairs interrupted her observation.

She turned away from the mirror. Another angry shout. An insult.

A slow, cold rage climbed up her veins. She sidestepped the pill packets and headed downstairs.

Yui's parents didn't even realize she was there, so busy were they yelling at each other. The mother called the father a useless parasite who might as well die. The father called the mother a cheater and a bitch.

"Enough," the girl said.

Both parents stopped yelling, surprised at seeing her there.

"You are both horrible people. You are so focused on yourselves you didn't even realize your own daughter was suffering and needed help." She sighed. "Get a divorce, it'll make everyone happier." After that, she went back upstairs, cleaned up the mess of pills, and got into bed.

She had a first day of school to attend tomorrow. She smiled, a little bit excited despite herself. Her past few bodies had all lived and died young. She hadn't got to start high school in a while!

A part of her was impatient for something else, though. Now that she was finally in Japan, she wanted to find Aizawa. She needed to make sure he was okay, and she was also curious. What kind of adult had he grown up to be? Probably a super serious and humorless potato. She giggled at the thought.

_Tomorrow, _she thought with a yawn, and sunk into sleep.

* * *

**A.N.: Guys please review :) if there are parts that you didn't like / thought were kinda lame, let me know too! I can only improve if I know what I'm doing wrong.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Seriously guys, please review :)**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Yui skipped on the way to school, humming to herself. The sky was blue and the city bustled with the sounds of spring. Kids tripped over each other, music played from store fronts, flower kiosks held out samples in every street corner. She ducked under a sign and dodged around an elderly man with a cane without breaking the rhythm of her skipping. The colorful chaos that gave Japan its hectic heartbeat had always been her favourite.

Her plan for the day was simple; access UA's records to start tracking down Aizawa.

After her death as Chitose, she'd woken up, as usual, in a different body (Anabelle, an eleven-year-old-girl in a cancer hospital in France) and the first thing she did was search the internet for news of the villain attack in Japan. It broke her own rules, but she couldn't help herself. She'd been terrified that despite Chitose's sacrifice Aizawa would still get himself killed.

But the news covered how the rising hero All Might got there in time to save him (though unfortunately not the girl that was with him). The flood of sheer relief made her tiny body lightheaded.

And now, fourteen years later, she was going to find him again. Since her past few lives had been overseas, she didn't know much about Japanese heroes (other than All Might, who was famous worldwide. She hoped she'd get the chance to thank him for saving Aizawa sometime.) But she could research current heroes to see if any of them had an Erasure quirk. And assuming he'd gotten into UA as a teenager, the school would surely have records of his whereabouts.

Even if that wasn't the case, and she found nothing of use today, she was certain she would meet him in this life eventually. It felt inevitable, after all, what were the chances that she'd get reincarnated in Japan at such a perfect time?

On another note… her new body had a quirk, which was unusual.

Her own quirk, Thousand Lives, usually resurrected her in young bodies and female (though there were exceptions, she'd had a male body a couple of times). In that sense, Yui followed the rule. However, all her resurrections so far had been quirkless. Waking up in the body of someone with quirk genes was a rare and precious novelty.

Yui's new quirk could shrink and enlarge objects that she touched. She hadn't had much time to experiment with it, but that was what school was for.

This was going to be so much fun!

* * *

The teacher of class 1-B was something else.

The woman walked in wearing a skin-tight suit and stiletto heels, uncaring of the way the students gaped at her. Or rather, she seemed to _enjoy _unsettling the teens. "My name is Kayama Nesumi," she said, winking. "I usually teach hero art and design, but your homeroom teacher is off sick, so I'll be taking care of you on your first day."

"It's Midnight!" someone whispered.

"Correct. I am known as the 18+ only hero, Midnight."

"None of us are eighteen," someone else pointed out.

"Hmm," Midnight agreed. She licked her lips. "Such tender skin, I have so many things to teach you."

There was _no reason _for the woman to dress in her hero costume for class or drop an innuendo every second sentence. Yui shared a perplexed and amused look with her neighbour, a tall girl with red hair.

Midnight was a lunatic. But she did talk them through the curriculum, and the various events to look forward to during the year. As she went through the tests and assessments, the tension in the room was palpable, the students eyeing each other with suspicion and wariness. It was to be expected, when you had a group of high-achieving teens set up to compete against each other in a high-pressure environment.

After the explanations Midnight forced the students to participate in ridiculous classroom games and much of that tension dissipated. The games toed the line of inappropriate ("point out your neighbour's best feature," "talk about an embarrassing secret or moment in your life") especially supplemented by Midnight's suggestive commentary. By the end of it everyone was horribly humiliated and had more intimate knowledge of each other than they ever wanted to know.

(Yui's best feature, according to her neighbour Kendo, were her eyes, which seemed like they were always smiling. _Thanks, _Yui replied, and smiled. _Your best feature is your hair. It is a very vibrant colour and the side-ponytail is really cute!_).

(_An embarrassing secret... Hm. I guess I like older men?_)

Everybody seemed, if not more relaxed, at least united in their collective embarrassment. The atmosphere lightened. Yui was amused by the whole thing. _They're good kids._

They also went outside, where Midnight asked them to take turns showing off their quirks in the most extravagant way possible. There was an unpleasant experience for Yui, as one of her classmates had a plant-based quirk, where her hair grew much in the manner of vines.

The tearing pain in her torso as the thorny vine pierced through, Aizawa's terrified face above her, panic that she was going to die and he'd be next and she couldn't protect him –

But the moment passed quickly. Shiozaki Ibara was a sweet and beautiful girl who used her quirk to grow pretty flowers for the class.

Yui enjoyed the opportunity to test out her own power. It did not work on living things, but she was able to enlarge a rock to the size of a school desk, and shrink it to be as small as a bullet. Interestingly, its mass was also altered, not just its volume. And she didn't need to touch it directly, either - by touching it once, she could then control its size from a distance for a few minutes.

(It had been a while since she'd lived to high school but she did remember some physics. She could throw the bullet-sized rock at a tree; then enlarge the rock while it was in the air by a factor of almost one thousand. The initial velocity was maintained, but the mass, and hence the momentum, was multiplied. The giant rock crashed through the trunk and the entire tree toppled.)

Her classmates clapped. As far as first days went, this one was easily in Yui's top ten.

However, she could not forget the second reason she was here.

"Midnight-sensei," she asked after class was over, "Can I trouble you with an unusual request? I'd like to access the schools' archives."

Midnight was putting away some papers. "And who are you looking up, hm? I remember what you said earlier. An older man's records?"

"Technically-"

"Meet me at the teachers' lounge in half an hour. I'll allow it if you let me take a peek at whatever you're looking for."

"Of course. Thank you, sensei."

"Such a polite child! Who would have thought you want to misbehave like this, hm?"

Yui whistled to herself as she skipped down the corridor, looking for something to entertain herself with while she waited for the appointed time.

_Wonder what you're up to now, Aizawa._

* * *

Aizawa was doing paperwork. Again.

It was always worse at the start of the year. If he'd known that teaching involved _so much _paperwork, he would have thought more about it.

He was recording the results that the 1-A students had obtained during the field testing of their quirks earlier that day. It was good to have a baseline, so when they repeated the tests at the end of the year, they would know how much they had improved. Unfortunately, the task was extremely dull.

He lost his will halfway through and ended up falling asleep, drooling on the forms he was supposed to be writing.

The door to the teacher's lounge creaked open. He didn't raise his head or open his eyes, hoping whoever it was would just leave him alone.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

Aizawa sighed and straightened, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

It was a student, but not one of his. She had no extra appendages or other features to give away a quirk. Her gaze was soft and amused.

"I was until you woke me up," he grumbled.

"Oh, sorry, Sensei." She looked around the room. "I'm Kodai Yui from class 1-B. I'm supposed to meet Midnight-sensei. Can I wait here?"

He nodded. She sat on one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table from where he was. Aizawa sighed and picked up the pen, setting to work again.

After a while he felt the student's gaze on him. "Do you have a question for me?"

"Well, your face is familiar, but I can't put my finger on it…"

Glancing up at the girl, something struck him as familiar, too. The eyes that smiled on the surface had a quiet sadness underneath. And the way she looked at him, with her elbow on the table and her head leaning on her hand, tugged at his memory. However, he was certain that he'd never met a Kodai Yui before or anyone with that surname.

Probably his imagination. His vision was blurring because of fatigue. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand and looked back down at his papers. "My hero name is Eraserhead. Maybe that's why."

"Sorry, I don't know many heroes," Yui replied. After a pause, she repeated, "_Eraser_head?" The word came out slowly, her voice curling up at the end, not really a question. Aizawa didn't bother with a reply, jotting down another number in the form. Ochaco, infinity.

He heard her sharp intake of breath. When he looked at her again, she was openly gaping.

Aizawa frowned. What was up with this girl?

But he had never been one to lose a staring contest, even if it was with a kid.

To his surprise, after a few seconds of stunned staring the girl broke into the widest, happiest grin he'd ever seen. It illuminated her face like she had just been granted her hero license. "Hehe," she giggled. "Oh. Hehehe."

"Cut it out, kid, I'm working."

"Oh, Aizawa. What happened to your hair? You look like a swamp witch."

"That's Aizawa-sensei to you," he snapped, irritated and confused. A swamp witch? Distracted by the rudeness of the comment itself, the fact that she suddenly knew his name went unnoticed.

She seemed to find that hilarious and broke out into another fit of giggles. "Sorry, Aizawa-_sensei,_" she repeated, drying a tear from the corner of her eye. The emphasis on the second word was clearly mockery.

"That's it, you're waiting outside."

The grin didn't leave her face, but she obediently stood up from the chair and went to stand outside the door. Occasionally, Aizawa heard her break out into fits of giggles, the sound wafting through the door to where he sat. It made it impossible to concentrate on his task.

He could not, for the life of him, figure out what was so funny. It made him feel old.

The door creaked open, and Yui's face peeked in. "I'm sorry about earlier, Aizawa-sensei. Can I come back in?"

"No."

"I'll just stand out here then." There were a few seconds of blessed silence. Then Yui started swinging the door back and forth.

Creak. Creak. Creak. Crea-

Aizawa slammed his hand down on the table. "Fine! Just sit down and be quiet." He glared at her as she took her previous seat opposite him. Aizawa had perfected the art of glaring at students and most were intimidated, or at least made uncomfortable by his glares, but she seemed unbothered. He could already feel the headache building up behind his eyes. Only three forms left to complete. He could do this. He picked up the pen again.

"Were you a student at UA, Aizawa-sensei?"

"Yes."

"How many years have you been a pro hero?"

"Twelve."

"How many villains have you taken down?"

"I don't know."

"It must be a lot. I bet you worked really hard. I bet you became a really cool hero. Are those bandages around your neck part of your hero costume?"

"I'll expel you if you don't shut up."

"Alright, I can see you're busy. I'll leave you alone."

She stood up and made to leave, finally, but not before pausing at the door to grin softly at him.

"See you around, Aizawa."

Leaving out the suffix _again. _The nerve of this brat.

Nesumi sashayed into the teachers' lounge some time later with her own stack of papers. "I'm supposed to meet a student here. I hope you didn't scare her off."

Aizawa grunted but was too tired and cranky to discuss it.

"Well, I guess if it's urgent, she'll find me again," Nesumi mused.

* * *

His commute back home was interrupted by a villain alert.

Eraserhead crouched in the shadows, watching the villain rage, spewing some toxic substance from their mouth. He activated his quirk, and - as they wheezed, wondering why nothing was coming out - looped his bandages around their throat from behind. He pulled, staying on their back as they thrashed, until they suffocated and fell unconscious.

No casualties.

When he finally got home he fell into bed, too exhausted to change his clothes.

That night, for some reason, he dreamed of falling off a skateboard, and a giggling girl that he hadn't thought about in years.

* * *

_Next time:_

_When he got to school the next day, there was a package in his locker, along with his usual correspondence. It was a handmade lunchbox, the rice balls shaped into cute little cat faces._


	4. Chapter 4

**_A.N: Thank you so much for the reviews guys :) they make my day_**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

* * *

_When he got to school the next day, there was a package in his tray, along with his usual correspondence. It was a handmade lunchbox, the rice balls shaped into cute little cat faces._

Aizawa stared at the lunchbox. It had been a while since he received any gifts. Usually, it was people like All Might and Midnight who had to deal with the overenthusiastic teenage fans.

He doubted it was from any of his students. He was pretty harsh with them on their first day, which would make it very strange that any of them made him a lunchbox. Really, there was only one person it could be from.

He tossed it in the bin.

"Cold," Nesumi's voice sung behind him. "A poor girl put a lot of love and care into making that for you."

"Are you the one who put it in my tray?" Students didn't have access to the teachers' correspondence trays. Mail had to be cleared by the admins first, and they were usually pretty good at filtering out this kind of thing. Otherwise all the famous teachers would constantly be swamped with presents and fan mail. (Of course, some teachers - cough Hizashi cough - told the admins to let the mail through just so they could sit on a pile of loving fan letters and presents every day).

"Maybe," Nesumi purred. "Guess who it's from."

He sighed. "I don't know _why _Kodai Yui thinks this is funny, but please don't encourage it."

Nesumi chuckled.

By the end of the day Aizawa had already forgotten about the lunchbox, as other things occupied his mind. He had a class of teens he was responsible for shaping into good heroes. Some of them were already on track, thankfully - that Asui girl with the frog quirk, for example. Others needed a lot of work. The Midoriya boy worried him most of all, with such reckless use of his quirk. He needed guidance before he hurt himself terribly. That was the only reason Aizawa decided against kicking him out in the end.

Yui was waiting for him outside the classroom, after final bell. She was leaning against the wall looking at her phone, but smiled and put it away when she saw him.

"Did you eat well today, Aizawa-sensei?" The way her mouth curled around the suffix, it was obvious she still struggled not to laugh.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Aizawa asked flatly. "Homework to do?"

"Oh, I'll finish it during class."

Aizawa started walking. She followed him, leaning around him to get a look at his face. "I take it you didn't like my lunchbox. But I even made it without pickles."

Aizawa did hate pickles. Had since he was a kid. But how did she know? "Scram, kid."

"I know what you're thinking, and I'm not a stalker, I swear! You seemed pale and malnourished so I was worried." Aizawa's eye twitched. "Just kidding. Actually, we've met before. I remembered you don't like pickles from that time."

Aizawa stopped walking.

Yui stopped a few steps later, turning to look at him, the smile still on her face.

Something about her _was _familiar, but... "I'm fairly sure I haven't met you," Aizawa said.

"It was a long time ago, so you maybe forgot."

"When?" A long time for her probably meant a few years. A civilian Eraserhead saved, maybe – there were so many that he'd forgotten most of them, but it would explain the vague familiarity.

But Yui didn't answer the question. "I think I'll make a lunchbox every day, until you remember. It'll be a game!"

The threat to expel her was on the tip of his tongue. Aizawa didn't have patience for impertinent students, and this first year had more gall than any he'd ever met. She spoke to him like an equal, rather than a teacher. Disrespectful.

It would be rude of him to expel one of Vlad's students, but technically, he _could _do it. Either way, just the threat of it should keep her in line. He had enough on his plate at the moment, to be dealing with a nuisance from another class.

But at the same time, it was hard to be angry at Kodai Yui. She was a smartass, but there was something warm and likeable about her (and Aizawa didn't find many people likeable). He had the feeling that although she didn't respect him as a teacher, she respected him as a person, which was odd.

Now that he understood her motives, Aizawa had to admit, he was curious and a little bit interested in the mystery. She just wanted him to remember.

"If I remember, you'll stop pestering me."

She beamed at him. "Hm-mh."

"No lunchbox necessary."

"Rejected. You need an incentive, Aizawa. Okay I actually do have somewhere to be, bye!"

* * *

"Oh?" Nesumi asked. "You're eating it this time?"

"It would be irrational to throw away free food."

* * *

The lunch box on the sixth day consisted entirely of pickles. Whole pickles, neatly arranged side by side. Sliced pickles arranged in flower patterns. Pickled pickles sprinkled over the top.

Aizawa threw it away immediately. He did wonder, though, if Yui was getting impatient.

She was waiting for him after class. "So, did you like today's lunchbox-"

"Don't ever speak to me again."

"Aw, Aizawa, it was a joke-"

"Aizawa-sensei," he corrected automatically.

"Sorry, Aizawa-sensei sir. I promise never to do it again." She skipped ahead of him. "Have you remembered yet?"

Aizawa had thought about it, usually at lunchtime. The enigma was a distraction, a nice break from teacher and hero work. But so far, he had no ideas. He'd recalled a few faces of the people he had saved, but not hers. Her recorded quirk, Size, didn't ring a bell either.

He'd asked the other teachers about her in the teachers' room. Nesumi said Yui was mature, smart and hard to fluster. "And she likes you, and you've been eating her lunchboxes lately. Is there something I should know, hm?"

"He hardly gets any presents, he's probably just grateful to have one," smugly said Hizashi, hero alias Present Mic. He had a chocolate bar in his mouth, recently unboxed from his pile of fan presents. Aizawa glared at him.

Vlad, Yui's homeroom teacher, spoke up. "She's very popular with her classmates," he said. "From what I've seen so far, she gets along well with everyone. Her quirk is also pretty impressive, but she doesn't seem motivated in class. She tends to hang back and let her peers have the spotlight during exercises. If I had to pick a flaw, I would say lack of ambition."

'Lack of ambition' usually wasn't a problem with UA students, so that was interesting. However, it did nothing to help Aizawa's memory.

"No, I don't yet," he told Yui, glancing sideways at her.

She pouted in disappointment.

"You do remind me of someone," he admitted.

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

_Eleven seconds, Aizawa. Not bad._

"It doesn't matter. She's dead. And you should really be doing your schoolwork." He walked away, missing the way Yui's gaze softened as she watched him leave.

* * *

The attack on the USJ was the most terrifying moment of his life.

Not for himself, of course. Aizawa wasn't scared of his own death. But his students.

The villains were too many, and he was just one person. Even Eraserhead couldn't stop all of them, even if he took risks, even if he fought recklessly. The knowledge that these criminals had planned this so well, specifically targeting his students, going through such lengths to bypass the security of the best protected hero school in the country -

The League of Villains, as they called themselves, wanted class 1-A dead. They weren't fucking around.

Losing people was part of hero work. Still, these were _his_ kids. The panic mounted. His restraint slipped. His next twist of the bandages snapped two of the villains' necks, killing them instead of rendering them unconscious like he originally intended. But maybe it was better this way. He couldn't risk them waking up and joining the battle again.

But Aizawa was a pro hero and a veteran of many fights. And more than that, he was a rational person. Through the anxiety he kept a cool head; a lot of class 1-A were competent in battle, it was possible that they could survive long enough for backup to arrive. As long as Aizawa kept the worst of the villains at bay. As long as he bought enough time.

The Nomu beast was a superpowered abomination, even when he Erased its quirks. He was quite certain it was going to kill him.

That was fine. All he had to do was buy time.

* * *

Aizawa's vision was blurry.

It happened every time he overused his quirk, though not as bad as this. He was practically blind, colours and blobs swimming in front of his eyes in a kaleidoscopic blur. His entire face hurt. He couldn't move his body.

Someone was with him, hovering at the edge of his vision. It was impossible to tell who, but Aizawa's imagination filled in the features that his eyes were unable to distinguish, the warm, knowing curve of her eyes and a wide open smile. Chitose. It was a shock to see her with such clarity - he'd thought his memory had faded.

Ah. He must be dead.

It kind of made sense, that hers was the first face he saw, if he thought about it.

"Welcome back, Aizawa."

"Chitose," he mumbled. "Misyuh." Moving his jaw hurt too much to articulate the words properly, but she seemed to understand anyway.

Her eyes became bright with emotion. She blinked the tears away and grinned at him. "I missed you too, you dummy." Something touched the tips of his fingers, the only part of his body that seemed to have any feeling in it. It was soft and warm. Her hand.

"Didn'shink death hurt this mush," he said. His face felt like it had been smashed in with a hammer.

She giggled. "You're not dead."

"Must be, or wouldn't be seeinyuh," he reasoned.

Wasn't death supposed to be peaceful? Serene? Aizawa felt dissatisfied and restless. Dying wasn't the problem. What bothered him was not knowing what had happened to his students or whether they were okay.

"I do enough?"

"What do you mean?" Chitose asked.

"Iida made it out? Other teachers – get to the training ground in time? My students – alive?" He did his best to articulate.

"Oh, Aizawa." She leaned over him and hugged him around his shoulders, very gently so as not to jostle his injuries. He heard her sharp intake of breath, as if she was holding back a sob. "Yes, all your students are alive and even Thirteen will recover. Iida brought back All Might in time to stop the villains. You did a great job, Eraserhead – you protected everyone."

Oh. Good.

This was nice. He wanted to hug her back, but he couldn't move his arms or any part of his body. He'd really thought being dead would be different.

Chitose straightened. "You're a bit loopy from the painkillers," she said. "You should sleep."

Painkillers? "Not working."

She giggled again. "I'll ask Recovery Girl to give you some more."

"Misyuh," he repeated.

"You said that already." She brushed his hair away from his forehead. "Go to sleep."

Aizawa closed his eyes, feeling more at peace than he had in years.

* * *

_Next time: _

_When he next woke up, he was able to think clearly once again. He was not dead, he was in UA's infirmary. And the person sleeping uncomfortably on the chair next to his bed wasn't Chitose, but Kodai Yui._

* * *

A.N.: please review guys :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

_When he next woke up, he was able to think clearly once again. He was not dead, he was in UA's infirmary. And the person sleeping uncomfortably on the armchair next to his bed wasn't Chitose, but Kodai Yui._

She was wrapped up in a blanket, no doubt courtesy of Recovery Girl. Her face frowned in dreams.

Aizawa stared hard.

Sorting through the memories of his drugged-up state was like wading through a fog, but he was pretty certain that he'd called her Chitose, and she'd responded to it.

No. Chitose had died, in his arms. He'd seen the light fade from her eyes.

His chest tightened like a vice at the memory, overshadowing the background discomfort from his injuries.

There had to be another explanation. Yui was intelligent - perhaps she'd realized he was hallucinating and just went along with it to avoid causing him unnecessary distress. Or maybe he'd dreamed the whole conversation.

Projecting a long-dead person onto a teenage girl really wasn't a healthy thing to be doing. Over the past week he'd slipped up a bit, treating her like a lost friend rather than a student and that wasn't appropriate. It didn't matter that the similarities were uncanny. He'd been through the grief already, he'd learned to live with that loss as with all the others. So why was he struggling with this now? Why was her ghost coming back? He was better than this.

And yet...

His subconscious kept whispering, insane as it was, _what if something crazy happened, _and of course intellectually Aizawa knew it wasn't possible. It just wasn't. But unlike other times where his rationality prevailed with ease, this time he wasn't able to kill that voice, and it stayed there, stirring restlessly in the back of his mind.

He knew what he had to do. Prove it to himself, that there was no connection. Once he'd convinced himself, the doubts would evaporate. And yet, he hesitated, because there was something bittersweet about clinging on to that glimmer of uncertainty. Letting himself drift in melancholy was... softly painful and a little bit addictive. If he accepted that Yui had nothing to do with Chitose, he'd be unable to keep pretending.

But he was better than this. And it was unfair on Yui. So it had to be dealt with.

Yui eventually awoke. She blinked and unfolded herself from her curled up position on the armchair. "Oh, you're awake again!" she said. "And sat up, that's good."

He swallowed hard. _It'll be fine. The result of this test will be negative. Deal with it._ "Chitose."

The impossible happened. Yui smiled. "So you did remember."

* * *

Aizawa was frozen.

It all slammed into him at once. The middle school classroom. The exercises experimenting with his quirk. The skateboard park. He _remembered? _As if he could ever forget.

And here she was.

She sat, relaxed, on her chair. The same gestures and the softness of her facial expressions, the bittersweet warmth in her eyes. He could almost superimpose their images, almost believe she was sitting across from him in their middle school cafeteria.

He was silent for a long time, long enough for Yui's - Chitose's? - smile to fade.

"Aizawa."

How could this be? Could he still be dreaming?

"Hey," she hummed. "You're being really quiet."

"I mourned you."

"I know. It - I couldn't come back sooner, sorry."

"How is this possible? You were- I- you died." Of course, he knew the answer. "A quirk?"

"Hm-hm. So smart, Aizawa. It's called Thousand Lives. When I die, my soul wakes up in the body of someone else who has recently died. I can never die for real, no matter how many times I get killed. Believe me, I've tried."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Surely, something like this shouldn't be possible.

But she was _here._

Beyond the disbelief, the questions piled up. Had Chitose been her first life? What happened to Yui? What did that mean, she'd tried?

Aizawa grimaced. The attack on the USJ, and now this – the timing was too convenient. The League of Villains must have had an inside person in order to take out the security system so quickly. "Are you with the League of Villains?" he asked, outwardly expressionless, but inwardly bracing for the answer. Because it couldn't be that his first true friend happened to be alive with no consequences. The universe was not that kind on him. There had to be a catch.

"Of course not!" Chitose seemed genuinely upset by the idea. She shuffled forward on the chair. "I'd never hurt you or the kids. C'mon, Aizawa."

_Then why come back now? Why did it take you so long? _

Aizawa was not used to being in the dark. He was a teacher. He was the one who was relied upon, the one who explained things and was listened to. But over the past few days he had been thrust in situations that had blindsided him, this one included, and emotionally, mentally and physically, he was drained.

One fact stuck out above all the others. Chitose… was alive.

"Hey..." She finally took his hand, wrapping her fingers around the bandages. Her smile turned wry. "Can't believe it took you almost dying to realize. I was getting impatient! Was worried I had to spell it out for you." At his lack of response, she glanced down. "Sorry. I know it's quite a shock. I promise I'll explain everything."

It wasn't over; they had to talk. They weren't kids anymore (if Chitose had actually been one) and problems didn't get resolved with only an apology. There was far too much to clarify before things were okay again.

But for now. He could savor this moment. Happiness was so rare for him.

He squeezed back.

(She's not dead!)

Chitose beamed.

Recovery Girl pattered into the room. "Oh, Mr Aizawa, you're awake. Miss Yui here insisted on staying late after class to watch over you while you recovered, and she's so charming, how could I say no? Mr Hizashi, Miss Nesumi and Mr Toshinori have also been in, as well as some of your students." She turned to Yui. "But it is getting late, so you should probably head home now, dear."

Yui - Chitose? hopped up from the chair, letting go of his hand. "Of course, Recovery Girl. Thank you for letting me stay. And thank you for all your hard work. Aizawa-sensei wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you."

Recovery Girl smiled gently. "It's my job, dear. Now off you go. Be careful on your way home."

Chitose turned back to Aizawa and grinned at him one last time. "I'll bring you another lunchbox tomorrow." She hastily wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and skipped off.

"That girl seems quite fond of you," said Recovery Girl.

Aizawa closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted. "I need to talk to the Principal."

"Not today, dear. You're in no shape to talk to anyone. What you need to do is concentrate on getting better. Your injuries are some of the worst I've seen in my career, and rehabilitation is going to be very hard for you. The principal and the police will see you tomorrow."

At the mention of his injuries, he tried moving again. He could wiggle around a little, sit up straighter with great effort and move his legs sideways, though he couldn't lift them; they were heavier than lead. Both his arms were in casts, leaving only the tip of his fingers free.

"This is going to suck," he grumbled.

"Yes, it will suck. But you will get through it. If I know anything about Eraserhead, it's that he is more stubborn than a mule."

He chuckled, which hurt everywhere. "Thanks, Recovery Girl."

"Well you're in a good mood, how rare. Isn't that nice?"

_Yeah, _Aizawa thought. The warm feeling glowed in his chest, despite the exhaustion. _It is._

* * *

The next few weeks did, indeed, suck, but not as much as they could have. He was tired all the time, sleeping for most of the day and night, as a result of Recovery Girl's treatments depleting his stamina. On the few hours he stayed awake, the old woman cleaned and re-did the bandages and got him to try to stand, though he progressed slowly, barely able to sit up without getting breathless. (He had to pee in a special bottle.)

Chitose visited him every lunchtime. His jaw was one of the first things that Recovery Girl had fixed, so he could chew and eat, but his arms were still fucked, so Chitose had to feed him. He didn't like it, but better her than one of the other teachers or worse, his students. Aizawa would prefer to keep his dignity in front of his class.

It was for this reason that he asked Recovery Girl to ban his students from visiting him. Being wounded was one thing. Being an invalid stuck in bed was another. He was their teacher, he wasn't supposed to be vulnerable and helpless like this. They would lose all respect they had for him.

Chitose was the least bad of all his options, really. She had lost respect for him long ago.

"Aizawa, aah."

"You're enjoying this far too much." But he obediently opened his mouth.

"Stop grumbling, you big baby. I worked really hard on these meatballs. So? Is it tasty?"

"Succulent," he deadpanned. "Mouth-watering. I could cry."

"Ughhh."

"Flavoursome. Exquisite. Delic-oomph." She shoved the next forkful in his mouth to shut him up.

He chewed.

In all seriousness, those were some good damn meatballs.

* * *

On the fourth day, Chitose showed up with a hairbrush and an armful of hair products. "We're doing something about your hair."

Aizawa stared, disbelieving that she actually dared. "No."

"I even brought this no-rinse lotion. Aizawa, you haven't washed your hair since the attack. It stinks." She walked closer.

"It's not the longest I've gone without washing it," he countered.

"Ew. Well, you have no arms, so you get no say this time!"

He glared and activated his quirk, said grungy hair rising menacingly. "If you so much as touch my hair, I will expel you."

Twenty minutes later Chitose sat behind him on the bed, having cleaned and brushed his hair, and was in the process of doing something else with it now, Aizawa suspected a braid. Despite himself, he had relaxed into a pile of pleased lethargic goo. The sensation of her fingers through his hair was lovely.

_I'm injured. I deserve to be pampered._ He sighed and closed his eyes.

She worked in silence for a while.

"Were you angry with me?" he wondered in the quiet.

"Hm?" Chitose asked.

"Back then. You died because of me. Because I was stupid." The guilt had never really gone away.

Chitose hummed behind him, her fingers tugging gently. "I was more worried than angry. I was scared you'd get yourself killed. Good thing All Might got there in time." Her voice softened. "You were doing what you thought was right. Who knows, maybe if you hadn't done it, one of those other civilians would have died."

He didn't say anything.

"Besides, it really wasn't your fault. It's... common for me to die in similar ways," she admitted. "Actually, it happens pretty much every time. I don't last more than a few years in someone's body before running into trouble and getting killed. If I didn't have to look out for you in that situation, I would have gone into the building to do what you did. Things would have turned out the same way. So it wasn't your fault at all."

"Really?" Aizawa said, surprised. "You would have run in?"

"Yeah. With my quirk, I'm not afraid to risk my life. If there's a slim chance that I can save someone, I'll try, even if it's dangerous." She smiled to herself. "My bodies are usually quirkless, so I don't make much of a difference, but I did end up saving people a couple of times in the past, so it's worth it."

Aizawa digested that. Even if death was not permanent for her, rushing into danger to help complete strangers was incredibly brave. And the way she talked so casually about it, it was clear this was, indeed, something she did quite often.

_I don't make much of a difference._

How many times had Chitose died for someone else? Aizawa wondered. How many times had she failed, and died for nothing?

And yet, she kept trying. After so many lives, and so many times. She kept dying the same way.

One of her hands touched his shoulder. "I really didn't want to lose you back then," she confessed. "I'm glad you're alive, Aizawa."

It was hard to give a name to the new feeling. Admiration? Respect? Kinship? Chitose was a hero, through and through.

The door opened. "How are you doing, my humorless friend- what's this?"

Present Mic had just walked into the room. In Aizawa's perpetually tired state, it took him a while to register how things looked - he'd gotten so used to having Chitose around, he'd forgotten that to everyone else she was Kodai Yui, a first-year student.

"Hi, Mic-sensei! I'm doing Aizawa-sensei's hair, since he can't do it himself. I was going for the elf princess look. What do you think?"

Present Mic looked like he was torn between laughing at Aizawa's hairdo and being concerned she was sitting on his bed. Mockery won. "Elf-f-f princess," he wheezed. "Oh my god. Need to take a picture. Hang on, don't move!" He left the room. Aizawa heard him shout loudly. "Does anyone have a camera?"

"Elf. Princess?" Aizawa said icily.

"Oh, would you look at the time, it's so late! Nice chat! Bye!"

That little bitch, fleeing before he could enact revenge.

* * *

_Next time, special chapter:_

_Chitose's adventures with the first year students of UA High!_


End file.
